


The Impossible Journey of Finding Somewhere to Study

by jemssims (morsly)



Series: Coffee Shop AU-verse [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coffee Shops, College, F/M, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-14 11:19:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4562643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morsly/pseuds/jemssims
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitzsimmons Coffee Shop AU// Undergrad student Jemma Simmons is absolutely smitten by the cute, Scottish barista that poured her coffee this afternoon.  She keeps staring at him between textbooks chapters, and she could swear that he's staring at her back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, my first ever AoS and Fitzsimmons fanfic and it's a coffee shop AU. Of course. You can laugh at the tropes and at me. I'm laughing at me. I hope you enjoy it.

It was cold. Bitterly cold. Ice on everything, eyeballs freezing cold. The heat was out in Jemma’s favorite library, and her illegal space heater had stopped working in her apartment. She thought it must have been her karmic retribution for bringing an illegal space heater to school in the first place. Anyways, it was cold.

The need for studying where it was not cold had brought to her a tiny little coffee shop off campus. She opened the door, and the heat and freshly ground coffee smell made her automatically feel suffocated in all her layers. She took a second to notice the place, mostly empty, with solid wood tables surrounded by plush leather chairs. There was an exposed brick wall behind the counter where a barista was putting away mugs. Jemma moved to a chair, put her bag on the table, and started peeling off her coats and jackets. When she was sufficiently de-insulated, she grabbed her wallet and walked over to the counter. 

She stood there for a moment before speaking. “Excuse me,” Jemma kept her voice as sweet as possible, even though the barista was still obliviously stacking mugs.

“Oh, sorry.” He turned around and walked to the register. “What can I get for you?” He looked up from the machine. Those eyes! He’s Scottish? She felt a smile tug at her lips. He was cute. Very cute. Handsome. With a little bit of stubble and light brown hair a little wild in the front. He quirked his head to the side and gave her a small half smile, prompting her to answer.

“Um, just a coffee, please.”

“For here?”

“Yes.” His hands looked so elegant.

“Room for milk and sugar?”

“Yes.” What man has elegant hands? Who notices that?

“That’ll be $1.29.” She handed him her debit card. “So, you’re not from around here either?”

“Uh, no, Sheffield, actually. I’m here on ‘international scholarship’.” She spoke the last bit with the fake pomp she thought it required. He smiled at her, and she evaporated into thin air.

“Ah, me too. But it sometimes is still not enough.” He gestured around him. “Give me one minute for that coffee.” He turned back around and grabbed one of the mugs that were more the size of boats now that she really saw them. He poured her cup and handed it to her over the counter. “If you need anything else, I’m Fitz.”

“Jemma.” She smiled and picked up her wallet, starting to move to the small table with the milks and sugars. 

“Nice to meet you, Jemma.” He gave her that half smile again before turning back around, starting again on his meticulous mug stacking.

She put her mug down on the table, lifting the back of her hand to her cheek. Of course, she was flushed. She poured a bit of half and half in her mug and grabbed two sugar packets. She tore them open, mulling over why a barista, of all people, had turned her to mush. She hadn’t really dated since coming to school in the U.S. There was too much on the line. Sure, she’d flirted and had a couple of unfortunate hookups, but no one had made her turn into a puddle like that. She was usually so well spoken! Was he really that cute? He seemed pretty short, actually. And his hunter green sweater had a small hole in the sleeve, she’d noticed. But that was more endearing than anything else, really.

She sat back down in her chair, getting her MCAT study book and laptop out of her bag. There was a bookshelf between her and the counter, filled mostly with exotic coffee blends, ceramic travel mugs, and pretentious coffee table books, but she could still see him (he’d moved on to wiping the counters) through a gap between Ethiopian coffee and a book about bicycles. He had rolled up his sleeves, and she could see the definition of muscles in his forearms. He seemd lean and wirey. She sighed and opened the obnoxiously large book in front of her. She was not going to get into Johns Hopkins or Harvard Medical School while ogling Scottish coffee boys. Boys had never distracted her before, and they certainly would not start now.

About half an hour in, Jemma had drained her coffee but made little progress on her studying. She kept glancing up at him, making sure he was still doing what he was doing the last time she’d checked 30 seconds prior. She was positive he’d caught her staring, but he hadn’t asked her to leave for being creepy. She did feel awkward for staying if she’d finished her drink, though, so she picked up her wallet, took a very big deep breath, and made her way back towards the register. He was waiting for her this time.

“Another coffee?” That damn smile.

“Tea, this time, please.” Her ‘calm and cool’ mantra wasn’t as working as well as it usually did. She felt her cheeks heat up again.

He took a wire basket filled with tea bags out from under the counter. “I’m afraid we don’t have loose leaf.”

“Oh, I’ve gotten used to it.” She tried to softly smile at him. It probably looked ridiculous.

For a second, he looked like the flustered one. Jemma could have sworn she saw a touch of pink creeping out from under the neck of his jumper. Before she could ponder it, he spoke. “Look, I get off in about ten minutes if you want to go somewhere.” He stared at her for a clue as to what she was thinking. “Not like-- I’m not trying to presume-- Do you want to hang out? Maybe not get coffee.” He smiled for half a second. “Unless you want to get coffee?”

She stopped him before he could get even more flustered. “Yes, I would love to go somewhere with you.” It came out in one word.

He smiled at her. “Great. Um, I have to finish up here but ten minutes?”

She smiled back. “Ten minutes.”

They were the longest ten minutes of her life. She made a chore out of putting her things back in her bag, trying to make it take as much time up as possible. She opted to stuff one of her wool sweaters in her bag as well. She didn’t want to look bulky. She started piling on her layers: fleece jacket, down bomber coat, with a wool coat on top. She kept her hat and mittens in her pocket, not wanting to look too eager just yet. When the ten minutes had passed, she peeked through the gap in the bookcase to see him peeking at her as well. He had donned a wool coat and hat that made him look like a pretentious English major. But in a good way.

She swung her bag over her shoulder and started towards the door. He was right behind her. “So, Fitz. Is that short for something?”

“It’s my last name, actually. I just like it better than my first.” He reached his hand in front of her to push open the door. The gust of eye balls freezing cold that greeted them reminded Jemma of why she put on the extra wool jumper.

“What is your first name, then?” She turned around to look at him, standing under the awning of the shop.

“It’s Leo.” He gestured to his right. “Let’s walk this way, yeah?”

“I like Leo. Like a lion.” She followed his lead, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her mittens and hat, not wasting anymore time with exposed hands and head.

“Like the constellation. That was my parents’ intention.”

“Are they astronomers?” She looked over at him, trying to catch his eye.

“My mum’s an astrophysicist.” He smiled. “She was a bit disappointed when I told her I wanted to do mechanical engineering.”

“You’re an engineering major? I had you pegged for English.”

“You say English major like it’s a bad thing. What’s wrong with them?” He was teasing her, and she was melting for it.

“I haven’t had the best experience with them. But yet I keep coming back.” She gave him what she hoped was a coy smile.

“I’m actually an English minor. My advisor said I needed better communications skills.” He was looking straight ahead now, a little more serious.

“I knew I wasn’t wrong!” This time her smile was just that.

“Enough making fun of me, thanks. What are you studying?” He was smiling again as well.

“Biology. Pre-med,” she sighed.

“Don’t sound too excited about it.” They were walking closer together now. He took the opportunity to teasingly poke her with his elbow.

She shrugged. “It’s my dream.”

“But?”

“It’s a lot of school.”

“You don’t like school?”

She looked at him, scrunching up her nose in a way that made him want to melt. “I like being in charge.”

“Ah, I understand. I’m a bit of a type A personality, myself.”

She giggled. “I know! I saw how you were stacking those mugs.”

He scoffed. “Well, I saw all those sticky notes in your textbook! Color coordinated, no doubt.”

“Guilty.” They were coming up on a row of university apartment buildings. “That’s me, over there.”

His smile faded. “I thought we were, um, doing something?”

“Do you want to get dinner tonight? I just need a bit to defrost,” And freak out to someone about all this, of course.

“Um, yeah, I’d like that. I could use some freshening up as well, I guess. Do you want to meet me, or...?”

“You should come here! And then we can go somewhere together.” She was encouraging a right real date now. She had no idea where this was coming from. Her cheeks were probably on fire.

He gave her a half smile. “Okay, I’ll meet you here. At seven?”

“Seven sounds great.” They had reached the entrance to her building. She opened the heavy metal door. “I’ll see you at seven.”

“Oh, and Jemma?” He looked a little unsure.

“Yeah?”

“It was really nice to meet you.”

She gave him her biggest smile yet. “It was really nice to meet you too.” And just for good measure. “Seven.”

He nodded at her. “Seven.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so sorry that it took me this freaking long to update this story. I had to move, and I just started class this week so I really needed to get situated. I'm very sorry. Anyways, I hope you don't die of the cheesiness.

Jemma burst into her apartment with a breathless “I have a date!”

Her roommate called back from the kitchen “Has hell frozen over?”

Jemma rounded the corner and gave Skye a look. “Very funny, but I’ll have you know I’m quite charming when I want to be.” She started taking off her coats.

“Especially when you look like a British marshmallow, I’m sure.” Skye was on her laptop at their kitchen table. “Did your date see you like this?”

Jemma’s cheeks flushed. “It’s cold! He did, actually.”

“He must really like you then!”

“What is with the tone of surprise?!” Jemma moved to hanging up all her outerwear and filling the kettle with water. “As I said, I’m perfectly charming.” She put the kettle on the stove. “I’m going to get ready. Tell me when the water is boiling, please.”

“Wait, I want to hear about your date!”

“Oh, now you do?” Jemma turned on one of her rare glares.

Skye shut her laptop and raised her hands in mock surrender. “Yes, now I do.”

“Fine.” Jemma sat down across the table. “He’s a barista at the coffee shop I went to this afternoon. He’s shorter, but I really don’t mind. He’s got this light brown or sandy blond hair that’s really very curly, but it’s cut short, and his eyes are so blue, it doesn’t really make sense, and he has stubble but not in a way like I normally hate it. It’s very cute on him.” She took a deep breath. “Oh, and he’s Scottish and an engineering student, even though he kind of looks like an English student, but it’s good he’s not because you know my history with English students.” She looked at her friend, waiting for a response.

“Wait, a Scottish Engineering student?”

“Yes.” She narrowed her eyes.

Skye smiled. “Leo FItz?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“He’s kind of a big deal.”

“Kind of a big deal? What does that mean?” Jemma’s tone started to sound a little desparate.

“Well, like you’re kind of a big deal,” Skye offered.

“I am not a big deal.”

Skye shrugged. “Finishing a biology degree in under 3 years at Cornell while on full scholarship is kind of a big deal. Not to mention, it’s your second degree. And you’re only 22.

Jemma scrunched up her nose. “We’re not talking about me. How is he a big deal?”

“Same situation as you, extremely talented in his field. He’s a year into his PhD, and the same age as us.”

“Oh, well, that’s intimidating.” She stared at her nails for a second. “Hah, and I called him an engineering major.”

“You’re just as smart, if not more. I wouldn’t worry about it.” She oped her laptop again. “Now, when you have genius babies, now that’s intimidating.”

“It’s just a first date, Skye. We’re not having children.” Jemma stood up from the table and started out of the room.

She could have sworn she heard a “don’t forget protection” before she opened her bedroom door. Once inside her overly tidy room, she dropped her bag on bed and began peeling off her clothes. She walked into her en suite and turned on the water for a very warm shower. It was only 5:30. She had plenty of time to get as cute as she wanted for her date. Holy Marie Curie, it was a real date. Not a ‘going back to someone’s dorm after a party’. A real date.

She turned on the water for a shower, letting it get warm enough to steam up the mirrors before she got in. She quickly scrubbed her limbs clean as she let the water defrost her joints and turn her skin an unhealthy shade of pinkish red. She turned the water off and towel dried as fast as she could, eager to get back into warm clothes. While she was in the shower, Skye had placed a cup of tea on her dresser. She picked it up and took a long sip. The temperature warmed her now cooling body. She put the tea back down, eager to get dressed. She hurried towards her small closet and picked out a pair of black jeans. This weather called for careful examination of her sweater collection. It was between an eggplant cashmere that brought out her eyes, and a burgundy v-neck that clung in all the right places. It was a first date. Cleavage wins.

She got dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of thick woolen socks and her favorite black ankle boots and moving on to where more time would be necessary: her hair. Without styling, it would be a stock straight, static-y mess, with just enough frizz that she didn’t like wearing it unstyled. She moved product through it and blow dried it faster than she normally would, letting her curler heat up as she did. When her hair was properly curled and voluminous, she applied a little bit of blush and mascara, also making sure that her eyebrows were as amazing as they normally were. Jemma was normally quite humble, except about her eyebrows. She had amazing eyebrows.

As she downed the rest of her tea, she went digging in her closet for her more stylish (but way less practical) winter wear, settling for a black wool coat that tied around the waist, black leather gloves, and a knit hat that accentuated her curled hair more than anything else. When she put it all on she would look like a badass super spy. A freezing cold super spy, but a badass one, nonetheless. 

(On second thought, she didn’t want to look stupid for under dressing, so she also grabbed a thick gray wool scarf.)

She walked back into the kitchen, throwing her outerwear over a chair and going to the sink to wash out her tea mug. Skye looked up from her laptop. “Oh, you’re wearing the great ass jeans. Good for you.” Jemma turned and gave her a look. “And you’re wearing the great boobs sweater! You must really like this guy!”

Jemma put the mug in the drainer. “I can wear whatever I like without it having any meaning other than the fact that I like it, thank you.” Skye narrowed her eyes and stood up from the table, taking a few steps and poking the underside of one of Jemma’s boobs. “Hey!” She took a step back. “What was that for?”

“You’re wearing the push-up bra I got you for Valentine’s Day,” Skye grinned.

Jemma looked wounded. “It was looking very lonely in my underwear drawer. Besides,” she picked up her things from the kitchen table. “It was really inappropriate for you to get me lingerie for Valentine’s Day in the first place.”

“That is so not the point,” Skye rolled her eyes.

Jemma shrugged on her coat. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to be getting to my date now.” She grabbed her purse and headed towards the front door.

“Be safe!” Skye called out.

“I’m not having sex with him!”

“No, I mean, like, use common sense!”

“I will!”

“Have fun!”

“Thank you!”

“Use protection!”

“I’m leaving now!” And she shut the door behind her.

It wasn’t until she got to the stairwell that the doubt started to creep in. Maybe he’d forgotten or fallen asleep or wasn’t really that interested in the first place or this was some sort of practical joke and Ashton Kutcher was going to pop out of the snow and tell her she’d just gotten punk’d.

She held her breath as she opened the heavy metal door at the entrance to the building. He was standing on the sidewalk with his back to her, maroon beanie on his head with his shoulders scrunched up around his ears. It looked like he was trying to keep in as much heat as possible. She smiled softly and walked down the stairs of the stoop. “Hey,” her smile got a little bigger.

He turned towards her. The tip of his nose was pink from the cold. It was absolutely adorable. The rest of him was just as deep-sighing-ly cute as she remembered. “I would have come up, but I didn’t know your apartment number. And I also didn’t have your phone number.”

“We probably should have exchanged more information.” She stepped towards him. “But here we are.”

He smiled. “Hey.”

“What?” She cocked her head to the side.

“I never greeted you.”

“Oh,” she smiled back. “Hey.”

He just kind of stared at her for a minute before shaking his head slightly. “I thought we could go to this Indian restaurant just off campus? It’s really close to the cafe, so it’s not too long of a walk.”

“I love Indian food. That sounds great.”

“Good,” He smiled at her. Again. It would kill her. She would be eating some harmless naan and he would grin and she would choke and that’d be the end of it. No second date. She’d be dead.

She waited a moment after they’d started walking to speak. “So, my roommate knew who you were.” She groaned internally. That was not the right thing to say.

“Oh, yeah? What’d she know about me?”

Jemma could have sworn she saw a small blush on his cheeks, but the lights from the streetlamps were too dim to tell. She picked her words carefully this time. “Just that you’re an engineering prodigy, apparently.” Just kidding. Those were terrible words.

“Hah, well the same could be said about yourself.” Now she was sure he was blushing.

“I just like to think of myself as very hard working, nothing else at play.” She was trying to ease the little bit of tension. As someone who skipped two years of primary school and was now working about to finish her second degree before heading off to med school, words like ‘prodigy’ and ‘genius’ made her feel more alienated than she already was. And she’d just messed it all up by using those words about him.

“Very hard working. I like that.” He nudged her with his elbow to reassure her.

They spent the rest of their walk in comfortable silence, focusing on not letting any of their limbs fall off from the cold. When they got to the restaurant, he held the door open for her, and she requested a corner booth, causing yet another heart stopping smile from him..

In the beginning, they kept their conversation light. Jemma found out that the only type of biology work Fitz would ever want to do was with monkeys like Jane Goodall. She had to remind him that Jane Goodall was actually a primatologist and anthropologist that worked with chimpanzees. 

When Jemma stated that she would choose aerospace engineering if she had to be an engineer (because women tend to make more than men in that field, and because the field seriously lacks women), Fitz rolled his eyes. According to him, the smaller gadgets were much more fun to work with.

After a while, they started to notice things about each other. When Fitz was splitting up pieces of naan, Jemma couldn’t look away from his ridiculously elegant hands, but she also noticed that he little callouses on the tips of his fingers. Probably from spending his whole life tinkering. She tried not to imagine what those fingers would feel like on her skin. She’d only known him for a day, for goodness sake.

He noticed her sweater, of course. That was her objective by wearing it. But he didn’t just notice her breasts. He noticed how her pale skin seemed illuminated behind the burgundy material, and how she had a few freckles dotted along her collarbone and chest. He wanted to reach out and trace them so badly.

She noticed how his posture was really quite awful, but that he leaned in to listen to her whenever she spoke.

He noticed that her smile changed her whole face, and that whenever she thought something was weird, she would scrunch up her nose in a way that was so British and so adorable.

She noticed that after two beers, he wasn’t even close to slurring his words, but that his brogue got thicker, and it did disconcerting things to her insides.

When their meal was over, she made him let her pay half of the bill, and, despite the unbelievable cold, they walked back as slowly as possible. With gloves on, it would have been awkward for him to take her hand. But walking with an arm around was also not ideal. They opted for just walking as close together as possible without driving the other person off of the sidewalk.

There was a feeling there. And it wasn’t a first date feeling. It wasn’t a feeling that Jemma had ever felt hooking up with someone in a twin XL. Fitz had never felt it either. Meeting someone like Jemma was not an everyday occurrence while working at the coffee shop. Meeting someone he was just drawn to. Someone that he would be content just staring at. They each felt it so strongly. They hoped the other person felt it at least half as much.

They stood in front of each other outside Jemma’s apartment, waiting for someone to say goodnight. Fitz noticed it first. Little flurries landing on the blackness of Jemma’s coat. He looked up, and she followed his lead. Despite the darkness, the sky above them looked like a snow globe. “Now, that’s just absurd. More snow?” She smiled in spite of herself. When she looked at Fitz again, his expression was more serious. His eyes flickered towards her lips. That was all the cue she needed. She leaned in. His nose was cold on her face, but his mouth was soft and warm. He placed a gloved hand on her neck, thumb stroking her cheek. She felt like she was melting into him. His tongue lightly met her bottom lip, asking for entrance. She happily obliged. It was not a normal first kiss. It was seamless, and although they’d both been drinking a little, you couldn’t tell. 

When they broke apart, he leaned his forehead against hers, and they breathed together for a moment.

She giggled.

He picked his head up. “What’s funny?” He looked worried.

“Nothing!” She grabbed his hands. “Not you,” she smiled. “It’s just that we only met today.”

“Yeah,” he smiled back. “It’s like fate.”

“You’re a scientist. Do you really believe in fate?” She felt like she was wearing the most silly grin in the world.

He leaned his forehead back against hers. “I’ll, um,” he smiled and looked down. “I’ll let you know.” He brushed snow flakes off her shoulder.

“I’d love to be there when you figure it out.”

“That’s the idea,” he smiled, leaning in to kiss her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not fate, Fitz. It's a coffee shop AU ;)
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this! Feedback would rock my world.

**Author's Note:**

> Well... was is that bad? I have a potential second chapter so let me know if you want that. I really work off of feedback so hmu with the feedback. Did you hate it? Was it bearable? Did it make you want to sign me up for community creative writing classes? You can let me know here or on my tumblr, URL: jemssims
> 
> Thanks!


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